Different
by kelliejo19
Summary: I know a hundred million little things about her and I want to know a hundred million more for the rest of my life to fall in love with her a little more each day.


**Hello world! It's me, Kellie! Once again, I am back in business!**

**First of all, for all the readers who are here without reading my other FanFiction, Trusting in You, I strongly recommend going to read it because I don't think you'll understand what's going on in the one-shot because of the added characters.**

**For all the readers who are reading Trusting in You: Hi! It's good to be writing again. I told everyone that I would either do the one-shot in Abby or Delilah's POV but I was listening to All Too Well by Taylor Swift and words just started flowing onto the page in Gabe's POV. I hope you like it!**

****This is for all the readers and reviewers for Trusting in You. Thank you so much for getting me over 250 reviews. You are the reason I write.****

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The first thing I remember is Delilah laughing.

It was Christmas Eve when Delilah and I were three years old. Our parents were still eating dinner, their forks and spoons clanging against the porcelain plates in a secret song. Delilah and I were hiding under the white and black staircase from our parents because we didn't want to go home just yet. We were dead silent, not wanting to risk even a loud exhale to reveal our hiding place. When my father asked Delilah's mother where Delilah was, Delilah burst out laughing.

I slapped her for it.

At the time, I was furious at her because our parents made us crawl out and I had to leave, but I don't regret hearing her laugh. It had just the right sound to mimic music instead of a giggle and the way she threw her head back makes me think she has something inside her that has to be shared with the entire world. She still throws her head back but now the sound has evolved into something low and humming like a cello. Her laugh makes me want to laugh too, just because it's contagious and happy. Maybe that's why it's so hard to see her cry.

She's buried beneath a blanket on the bottom bunk, her back facing me. It's shaking as she's sobbing into the pillow. I've never been the most comforting person but neither is Delilah so maybe that's why we get along so well other that the fact that we are brutally honest with each other. Another thing from Candor that I will never really leave behind. I have also never seen Delilah like this before. Not even when she broke her arm on the playground in fourth grade when Darus pushed her off the slide. Delilah's always been steady, impenetrable, and unbelievably strong. What do I do when I have to take that roll over? How does Delilah make being steady look so effortless when it makes me feel weak and small?

I step closer towards her bunk with a careful pair of feet and say cautiously, "Delilah?"

She immediately sits up in bed and faces me. The back of her hand swipes her cheek to get rid of the tears but I'm sure if I ask if she is crying she'd deny it.

"Gabriel," she whispers, using my full name. "Please just...leave."

Her breath hitches and water brims over the brink of her eyes and spills onto her cheek. She's the first to break our gaze. My Candor instinct tells me that Delilah is lying by the way she looked away from me. She doesn't actually want me to leave her. But it could also be that she doesn't want me to see her this way, when she is so vulnerable. I know my friend inside and out and I can tell it's the latter. But I don't care. I don't want to leave her like this. Besides, my heart is aching too. We stood side by side as they lowered Xander into the ground today. I knew that Delilah was thinking of the time he called her a Candor smart mouth and she called him a Stiff board, and they both started laughing and that was that. They were instant friends. He was vibrant yet gentle with life itself, caressing it with both hands. Delilah became friends with him and Abby quickly, seeing that they had a lot to learn about the world outside of their Abnegation home. Xander and I were good friends but we weren't as close as him and Delilah were. I have to admit, at first I was a little jealous and afraid that Delilah was pulling away from me but then after every day she would sit next to me at the cafeteria and tell about her day over a slice of chocolate cake we'd share and I knew that my best friend was still mine.

My body sinks into the mattress, my shoulder inches from hers. I'm unsure of where my boundaries lie. Is being here enough or do I try and comfort her with my arms and words whispering to her it's okay?

"I don't..." she sniffles. "I don't know what to do. It hurts." Her voice cracks and she presses a hand up to her heart. Her face contorts and she turns away from me as she starts to cry. I physically hurt and ache right along with her, heartbeat with heartbeat, and I know what to do. My arms wrap around her and pull her to me. She gives into my chest, her body convulsing against my embrace as she sobs. I pull her closer, my heart aching with every moan. I don't lie to her and tell her everything will be fine. I don't tell her that I miss him too. I hold her and cry with her, for the friend we both lost. I cry because I'm afraid of watching her being lowered into the ground due the same illness that took Xander. We came here to be Dauntless, to be fearless, but I suppose no one is without a certain amount of fear.

We grew up in a world where everything is black and white. There was always truth and deceptiveness behind everything and everyone, including even the most loyal Candor. I hated it there. My mother died when I was seven and after she was gone, my father became distant and withdrawn. He spent less time at home and more time at work, arguing over one thing or another with another lawyer. Eventually, he stopped coming home all together when I turned twelve. I moved in next door to Delilah's family in an abandoned house. I ate every meal with them and spent all day at their home playing with Patrick, Boone, and Delilah. Then I shared my nights with the silence that circled the forsaken house that was too big for me until the next day where I'd spend all day with my second family. Only the parents knew of what happened to my father and that I was living alone. My secret died with them in a fire that burned the house to the ground. It was the day before Patrick's ceremony. I knew he had planned to go to Erudite by all the books I'd seen hidden beneath his bed and under the stove before the fire ate them away. We all went to the choosing ceremony, two thirteen year olds and one toddler, scared to bits that we'd be left to fend for ourselves. Even now, I remember clinging tight to Delilah's hand and praying to a God I wasn't sure existed that Patrick would stay.

I could never be Abnegation.

I remember the longing in Patrick's eyes as he let his blood drip into the bowl for Candor. I remember how after we'd gone back to our new apartment, he'd cried for an hour. I knew what it felt like to give up on something or someone. I decided that night I wouldn't give up anything anymore. And I knew exactly where to go to become fierce enough not to let anyone take away someone I let my heart lie with.

Delilah didn't want to leave Candor. I did. I had nothing to lose but she had everything. Delilah had her brothers and she felt like a mother to Boone. One night I had gotten angry at her unwillingness to come with me and said that she didn't belong in Dauntless anyway. I knew I was being extremely selfish and stupid but I didn't care. I wanted to get out of my broken home, that entire faction and I wanted my best friend to come with me. But I slowly accepted that I would be going alone to Dauntless. The amplitude tests changed everything. She came back to the apartment, shaking and pale with beads of sweat on her forehead. She told me everything. The administer, someone named Tori, told her that she had tested equally for Candor and Dauntless. Tori had called her a Divergent, someone who is different than other faction members. She told her it wasn't safe to stay in a place like Candor where you are required to tell the truth, no matter how personal it is. The next day, she let her blood drip onto the coals like my own blood had, and left behind the only life she had ever own.

I spent days after that trying to make Dauntless life interesting and intriguing to her, but I could tell she wished she was back with Boone and Patrick. The first night after training, she cried into her pillow and I could only hear her because I had become so in tune to Delilah's every emotion. I climbed into bed next to her and told her that I was sorry, so sorry, that I had influenced her to come here. I became her only family after that because it has always been faction before blood, duty before love, just has it had been with my father. As we became closer during training, I finally told her about my father leaving me when I was twelve and she told me that Boone was the one who ripped the only picture I had of my mother when he was three. I knew then, just as I know now that I'd protect her from anymore hurt even if it meant hurting myself in the process. Xander, however, was the exception because he had hurt us both.

Now, as I hold her against me, I feel as if something shifts within me. Maybe this something shifted in me months ago but I was too blind to see it until now. Or maybe, I have been denying it all this time. I know now that I don't want to be just friends with her anymore. Her brown hair cascades off her shoulders and spills onto mine. Her head is buried into my chest and burning a warmth there. All this time I've ignored how beautiful she is, how much I want all of her for the rest of my life. My perceptive of the girl who used to jump in mud puddles with me is forever changed. Tidbits of her litter my memory in every corner of my brain. Her toothbrush is pink and she hates bubblegum toothpaste. Her favorite book is The Great Gatsby but she refuses to re-read it because she says the first time is always the best. She loves her brothers, Boone and Patrick, more than life itself and I'm sure she'd trade her own life in an instant to save theirs. Her favorite color is white. Favorite ice cream is vanilla with chocolate chips. She's a tomboy. She loves fishing. She hates shrimp. She almost always calls me Gabriel instead of Gabe because she knows I hate my full name. I know a hundred million little things about Delilah and I want to know a hundred million more for the rest of my life to fall in love with her a little more each day. I want to hear her laugh, to make her laugh, and to know I can take her hand or kiss the tender spot behind her earlobe without feeling like I am pushing her too far. I want to love her and her to love me back for the rest of my life. Something has changed, something is different about the way I'm seeing her and I like it a whole damn lot.

I look at her once again in my arms and decide at that moment I will do whatever it takes to make her laugh like she did under the staircase that Christmas. I will hold her until I can make her feel safe. I will die for her if I have to. Maybe she doesn't see me the way I see her and maybe she never will, but I want to hope that there is even the slightest possibility that things will be different between us.

Things are different for me.

I want them to be different for her too.

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**Thank you for reading and review!**

**-Kellie**


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